The Void In My Heart
by Niightmare
Summary: Roxy hadn't had much of a relationship with her mother before she died; how is she coping now? Sadstuck in Roxy's perspective as she speaks of her mother.


I had gone out to drink at the local bar this evening; this was something that was the nightly activity for me. There was no point in staying home anymore whenever the loneliness had threatened to swallow me whole, for there was no one to look forward to anyways. You were already six feet under in a location that has never been disclosed to me. The bar was a place to be free from my troubles; the bar was the place to pursue games that I had no right in playing.

The pieces were so easily laid out, each move played in exactness. Drink a little here and there. Flirt with both the workers and the customers. It's a wonder they even let me in without identification in the first place. The other players quickly joined in on this game, each action slightly tweaked per player yet leading to the same result. Being nineteen had its advantages over when I was younger; there was more reason to want to talk to a sweet and tipsy girl such as myself.

Going to the bar first started a few years ago. You were halfway across the world by this point, so it wasn't much of an issue of getting caught going out alone in the dead of night. The men there were so nice; even a woman here and there showered me with her drunken affection. They became my pals; people who I could trust to say anything to in a drunken haze even though I already knew the only reasons as to why they were really talking to me.

Sex was never an option back then. No matter how much I had talked the talk, walking the walk was an entire other bridge that I had refused to cross. Sure there was a little bit of fooling around here and there with some of the people I knew, but you had always taught me to save my virginity for that 'special someone'. The one I loved with every part of me, and who had loved me back with just as much vigor and emotion. Why couldn't you have been there to teach me where to find the good things in life such as this? Why couldn't you have just spent one night with me goofing off and doing childish things that a mother and daughter do like when I was younger, instead of absconding off to your room? One day you left, and I didn't know that this was the day that you would not be returning home.

I sure as hell don't know how I managed it those fifteen years without a guardian; you hadn't even told me right from wrong or who to believe and who not to believe. "It's common sense; something that everyone has. You should use yours more often. You're a bright girl," was all that you ever left me with. Common sense to me was just a loosely used phrase to try and make someone feel bad about their actions when they should not. I never knew what it truly was, and I still do not to this day.

I lost it the moment I found out about your death. There were so many things left unsaid, so many things I wanted to do. So man questions unanswered. Questions I laugh at now. You left me here. All alone, with nothing but a void in my heart. A void so vast that not even all the alcohol in the world would be able to fill its depths. I started to look in the wrong places to heal; to find love. Any kind of love. I'm not even sure if you truly loved me, or that if I love myself anymore.

The first time I went to the bar after you had died I was smashed within the first hour. A gruff man had approached me during this time, and I had sexual intercourse for the first time in my life that night.

I cried. I cried so hard after that. I felt vile, ashamed, and disgusted. No matter how drunk I was, I would have never done such a thing under normal circumstances. My heart ached more than anything in the world as I cried. During the intercourse, I had almost felt loved. I knew back then as well as now that I was tricking myself into thinking such a thing, albeit it was the only thing that kept me from fully going overboard.

Sex became a constant after this. Almost every night it was someone new, a new place, a new experience. Sometimes they would hit me or drug me, but it didn't matter to me at this point. I would do anything to try and fill this hole in my chest. The one you caused to slowly form even while you were still among the living.

There were times that I truly felt that the hole was starting to be filled up. But that was probably during the high of sex, where I was numb to the whole world around me.

It's silly how all of this is currently running through my mind as I'm slowly undressing in a motel room for some man I don't even know. I was unaware as to how cruel the mind could be when you're trying to do something to forget exactly what's bothering you most.

Wherever you are, I love you, and I just hope that you don't hate me for what I'm doing and who I've become.


End file.
